(So, basically, like normal cats.)
Dealing with actors is one of the least pleasant tasks of a PA. Just shuttling them from one end of the studio to the other can be a sisyphean task. They want to stop at crafty, they want to swing by the production office, they have to talk to their agent. All the while, the AD is yelling at me over the walkie, demanding to know what’s taking so God damn long.
I’m not sure if self-centered morons are attracted to acting, or if acting makes them conceited and stupid. Maybe if I spent the whole day with people doting on me and paying attention to my every whim, I, too, might think highly enough of myself to stop worrying about things like self-improvement or other human beings.
Just a quick example of what I’m talking about–
This morning, there was a message on the production office voice mail from a background actor (“extra”) who had worked the day before. He left his name, said he had left his ID, bank card, and $84 in his wardrobe, then asked us to call him back.
He didn’t leave a number.
This is amazing, since it covers both the stupidity and the narcissism. First of all, who leaves every piece of information needed to steal your identity in someone else’s pants? I wonder if his social security number was written on one of the dollar bills. He probably wrote it on all four, in case he lost some.
Secondly, why would he assume we’d know his number? He was one of about sixty extras. His contact info is in a pile of paperwork somewhere between here and Central Casting.
You’d think he’d want to make it as easy as possible for us to get back to him quickly. You’d be wrong. Actors don’t think that way. They think like this: “I want something. Someone will bring it to me.”
That someone is usually a PA.